


and my heart is playing hide and seek.

by thicklykeen



Category: The Breakfast Club (1985)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Angst, Car rides, Fluff and Angst, Internalized Homophobia, M/M, Modern Era, Self-Discovery, Swimming Pools, THERES SO MUCH OF IT SORRY, Underage Drinking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-25
Updated: 2019-04-25
Packaged: 2020-01-31 11:44:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,006
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18590587
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thicklykeen/pseuds/thicklykeen
Summary: brian johnson spends a while with himself.





	and my heart is playing hide and seek.

**Author's Note:**

> HEY LOSERS!
> 
> thanks to my bro leah for pulling through and helping me with a lot of this (and haley too ily). this fic probably wouldn't have gotten finished without either of them lmao. aNyWaY, eNjOy!
> 
> title from mary by big thief

Brian liked long car drives. 

He liked them the same way he liked to consume four hundred page novels in one day, or do science experiments that went horribly wrong; he liked them like he liked midnight showings, and creating suicides with the movie theater coke machine. He liked long car rides like he liked the day he was in detention. He’d made friends then and felt like he belonged, even though he was clearly an outcast, and he had fun, as weird as that was to say. After detention, though, they didn’t speak to each other. Brian didn’t really want to talk to Bender, even if they grew to have a standing ground it didn’t mean that the dude didn’t scare him still. He liked Allison enough, even if he still didn’t trust her all that much, and Claire was fun to be around. But what Brian didn’t understand was why he was so crushed when Andrew—or Andy—hadn’t even bothered to look at him; to even acknowledge his existence. It shouldn’t have bothered him as much as it did, but for some reason, it got under his skin. Even Allison and Bender had given him small, hidden, and guarded waves and hi’s when no one was looking. 

Andy hadn’t though, and that bothered Brian. He tried not to think about it too much. 

He shoved it off and studied for his finals, he didn’t know if he did well (nor did he really care), and he went on with his life. His job as a busboy at Monroe’s Diner sucked, and he’s pretty sure he only got the gig because Claire pulled some strings for him. The place was always packed because it was seemingly the only good restaurant in their rundown Chicago suburb, so he was always worked to death. He was exhausted by the time he came home and often struggled through dinner. One time, much to the chagrin of his family, he fell asleep at the dinner table. His job paid well, so he kept it, no matter how exhausted or angry it made him. A month after school ended, Brian didn’t even have a fleeting thought of Andy. It was like he’d simply dropped off the face of Brian’s mind. 

The only weekend Brian didn’t have to work in a month, Claire dragged him out to a public pool. It wasn’t like she didn’t have a pool in her backyard, so he was confused when she pulled up to his house and made him drive her to the only public pool in his old beat-up pickup truck. 

“Remind me why you’re making me take you to the public pool again?” Brian asks, pulling into a parking spot. 

“For fun,” Claire shrugs and unbuckles her seatbelt.

“You have a pool in your backyard.”

“And?”

“Go swimming in your backyard?”

“I have a feeling that wouldn’t be as fun.”

“You know something I don’t, don’t you?” Brian asks, turning around to face her. She grins and winks and doesn’t say anything else. She hops out of the car and grabs the towels from the backseat, and Brian follows suit. 

“Have fun today, okay?” Claire says, bumping his shoulder. Brian rolls his eyes but smiles nonetheless. Brian had never been a big fan of swimming. There wasn’t a story behind it, he just didn’t enjoy the way the water made him feel and that he always had to shower after he went to the pool because the chlorine made him feel sticky. 

The first hour goes uneventfully. Brian and Claire spend most of their time in the shallow end of the pool or sitting on the edge chatting about how their summer is going so far. Brian’s summer has been filled with work, which lead to some very interesting customer stories he’s been itching to tell. Claire’s has been filled with shopping misadventures, which lead to even more interesting stories, especially in the changing room of a Gucci store. It’s when Brian goes to get drinks for him and Claire when things get complicated. He’s gone for at least three minutes, as there’s no one at the counter and he has to wait for someone to pop up, which takes a few minutes, but it’s enough time for Andrew Clark to make a bright appearance at Claire’s side. When Brian returns, it clicks in his brain why Claire wanted to take him here. 

Andy gives Brian a charming smile that makes his knees go weak and brain turn to mush, and waves at him. Brian smiles back, but his hands are full so he can’t really wave. 

“Fancy seeing you here,” Brian says, after sitting down and handing Claire her drink. Andy shrugs and squints in the sunlight.

“Needed some air. Just not at the ballpark,” he says. There’s a wary air of silence as they sit there. Brian uncomfortably picks at the top of his water bottle. 

“What are you two doing here? Claire, don’t you have like… a pool in your backyard or something?” Andy asks.

“I said the same thing!” Brian says, laughing. Claire grins and leans back on her elbows. 

“I can see people I actually like here, and shit talk the people I don’t,” she says.

“But then they might hear you,” Andy says. “You can do it peacefully from your pool in your backyard.”

“Then I wouldn’t have the chance to get a chance meeting with people I do like, such as this one,” she says, waving her hand over to Andy. He chuckles and it makes Brian’s heart palpitate. They continue talking, and Andy’s stories from the summer aren’t as eventful as Brian’s or Claire’s. His summer seems to be more boring than either of them assumed. It’s been four hours before Brian and them leave. They wish Andy well before heading back to Brian’s house. They slide into easy conversation, and Brian complains about how the chlorine is making his skin feel and how he’s going to take a shower as soon as he gets home. Claire just laughs and scrolls through her phone. 

 

Claire gets to stay over, much to Brian’s excitement, they just have to keep the door open. To his surprise, Claire came prepared, as if she knew she was going to stay over. Claire has a silk, baby blue nightgown on, while Brian has on a simple t-shirt and joggers. It gets cold in his room at night, so he usually sleeps shirtless, but always with joggers on. They sit on Brian’s floor, the cool wood against his palms, while Claire’s lay in her lap. 

“You knew Andrew was coming to the pool today,” Brian says.

“Did I?” Claire says, smiling and picking her hand up to look at her nails. 

“Claire!” Brian says. He tries to sound angry, but he sounds more distraught than anything. 

“Listen, stupid, have you seen the way you look at Andy? The first day he didn’t talk to you after detention you looked like a kicked puppy,” she shrugs, stretching her legs out. “Brian, you’re whipped and you don’t even know it.”

“Yes, I, a straight man, am totally into boys. Thank you for this groundbreaking information, Claire,” Brian says sarcastically. Claire huffs and rolls her eyes.

“Fine, fine,” she says, leaning back on her elbows. The night passes by a little more quietly, and only once are they hushed by Brian’s mom for laughing too loud. 

They sleep in and make brunch when they wake up. Neither of them are very good cooks --Claire has never cooked a day in her life, so of course she’s not good at it. This leaves Brian to do most of the work--, but it pulls off in the end. Claire stays for a few more hours before she sends herself off back home, claiming she missed her cat and clothes. This left Brian to his own devices and thoughts. Specifically, what Claire had said last night, about how he was whipped for Andy and didn’t even know it.

He tried not to dwell on it too much.

 

The Saturday that Brian worked was uncharacteristically slow. He didn’t really mind though, it just meant he wouldn’t be completely and utterly exhausted when he got home. Maybe he could spend some time with his little sister, Christine, for once in his life. He’s wiping down an already clean table when he rears back in surprise. Andy waltzes through the door, a girl wrapped into his side, and they’re being lead to a table by Allison’s mother. Brian’s stomach is upset by the sight of the two, and he doesn’t quite understand why. Andy gives him a wave and a smile, but Brian acts like he didn’t see him. It’s clear he did though. 

Brian thinks he’s gonna be sick. 

Andy’s just his friend, he should be happy for him, if anything. But the sight of him holding that girl’s hand makes his stomach churn, and makes him want to throw his breakfast up in the nearest toilet. He continues to wipe down the table, and then leaves to go to the other side of the diner. Somewhere where he can’t see Andy and that girl. 

God, he can’t wait for his shift to end.

 

“Hey, Claire,” Brian says. Even after the short day of work, he was exhausted. He collapses on his bed, Claire on speaker phone. 

“You sound upset.”

“I am and I don’t know why.”

“Really now?”

“I think I have an idea. I don’t want to admit it though.”

“Why not?”

“Because you might’ve been right last Saturday,” he says. It’s hard to admit it because Brian’s never felt attraction to girls, so maybe deep down he knew that Claire was right. Everyone had found Claire so pretty, but he had never really considered it. Yeah, she was nice looking, but she wasn’t really Brian’s type. It all makes sense now, and Brian’s head is in a fog and his thoughts are a mess. He feels like he could breakdown and cry right then and there. 

“You okay?” Claire asks.

“Can I come over?”

“Of course. You’ll just have to sneak through the window.”

“Alright.”

 

Claire’s window is open when Brian scales her home. He all but tosses himself through it and scares the hell out of Claire. 

“Are you trying to give me a heart attack?” she asks, helping him up.

“Not actively,” he replies, standing and sitting his backpack down. Claire turns back around, and flops onto her bed. 

“Okay. Talk to me about it,” she says, looking up at Brian. “And before you pull some bullshit excuse and say you don’t know how to describe it, or something stupid like that, you can trust me. I’m not going to tell anyone.” 

“I-thanks. I just…I don’t know what to do. Claire, this shit’s just so weird. I saw him at Monroe’s today. He was with this girl, I’m pretty sure they were on a date, and it just left this pit in my stomach. I felt so hollow and disappointed. I felt like I was gonna be sick! Is this okay? Just…this feeling I have towards Andy, is it okay?” Brian’s desperate for validation at this point. His hands are tangled in his hair and he’s hunched over, pacing the floor. He’s so caught up in his thoughts, when Claire grabs his shoulders he jumps.

“Brian, hey, Brian, it’s fine. You’re fine. You’re okay,” she says, looking him directly in the eye. She rubs her thumbs across his shoulders gently, a small grin dancing across her face. It makes Brian smile, but he doesn’t feel any less nervous about how he feels. If Andy were to find out about how Brian felt about him, Andy would lose all contact. Brian’s skin starts to crawl. 

“Don’t beat yourself up over this. Hey, I have a solution. I’ll raid my parents liquor cabinet, we get drunk, you don’t think about this. That sound good?” she suggests. Brian shrugs. 

“I mean, yeah, sure. That sounds fine,” he shrugs and wipes his eyes. Brian can’t really argue with expensive wine either. 

The night continues. Brian’s glad he doesn’t have work on Sunday, that way he can get plastered with Claire, and he falls asleep in a heap on her carpeted pink floor. 

Claire wakes Brian up with the promising smell of breakfast, and he parents aren’t home either. They’d left that morning, apparently they were going to Bali and Claire didn’t want to come, so they have the entire house to themselves. While they’re eating, Claire points her fork towards Brian.

“Okay, so don’t kill me, but I figured out who Andy was on a date with,” Claire says.

“Oh my god, Claire!” Brian yelps, his voice coming out eight octaves higher than usual.

“Her name is Eileen, fancy, right? Well, anyway, he didn’t like her all that much so no second date. So, I decided that he should come on over and join our little party. Called my dad, pulled some strings, and you have off tomorrow now. Now we have a sad little party going down!” she says, tossing her hands in the air.

“You said ‘okay, so don’t kill me’ and somehow I knew I was going to want to kill you by the end of this conversation,” Brian says, shoving a bite of omelette into his mouth. Claire shrugs.

“Sometimes, dying is a worthy cause,” she feigns dramatically across her chair and lifts up giggling. Brian can’t help but laugh either. 

“When’s he coming over to join our sad little party, huh?” 

“I told him whenever, so hopefully soon. Says he’s been itchin’ to get out of the house for days now,” she shrugs. Brian hums and continues eating. The rest of breakfast passes peacefully, and it’s another hour before Andy appears at Claire’s door. Brian’s antsy, suddenly remembering his conversation with Claire last night.

Somehow, in some way, he’s going to fuck something up. 

 

To be fair, it wasn’t Brian that ruined the night. 

Somehow, Allison had found her way to Claire’s house, and when they opened the door, she was drenched in sweat and looked terrified. That was… interesting to say the least. 

“Allison, hey,” Claire says. 

“Bender’s in jail,” at least she’s straight to the point. 

“Wait, what?” Andy asks, shock evident in his voice. None of them had really gotten along with Bender, and they’d always assumed he’d end up on prison, but now? They shouldn’t really be as shocked as they are. 

“Armed robbery,” Allison says. 

“Shocker,” Brian says, waving his hands in mock surprise. 

“Where the fuck was he robbing?” Andy asks. Allison shrugs.

“No clue. Just called me with his one call and said he was going to prison,” she says.

“And you thought to tell us because,” Claire drags on the because. Allison rubs her arms. 

“Listen, I just thought you’d want to know. That you’d, like, care or something. Guess I was wrong,” she says and begins to turn to walk away. There’s not really much the other three can do, so they watch her go. Claire closes the door.

“Well? Let’s get drunk!”

 

Andy is probably the most sober out of all three of them that night. 

It’s also taking everything inside of Brian to not grab his face right there and kiss him senseless. Being drunk didn’t really help his case either. It just made Brian want to do things he knew he’d regret later. So, of course, he ends up doing it anyway.

Claire’s fallen asleep on her bed, and she’s thrown some pillows and blankets down for Brian and Andy. Brian finishes the bottle of Absolut, there wasn’t much left in it, and falls backwards into the nest of blankets he compiled for himself. Andy looks at him, a soft grin stretched across his face.

“What?” Brian asks, grinning. Andy wheezes and looks down at his lap. 

“Nothing, nothing,” he says. Brian snorts and sits on his elbows, still laying down. Andy’s jaw looks sharper than it actually is in the soft yellow of Claire’s lamp. His cheeks look shallower than Brian remembers, like a sharp cut stone. The Standall house was always freezing, and then was no exception. Andy scoots closer Brian to where he’s almost hovering above Brian. The sight of Andy, the way he looks almost ethereal in the soft light, make Brian’s guts turn to mush and his stomach roll. He could kiss him, he could kiss him right now. 

Andy beats him to the punch.

Andy dips down, his hand soft on Brian’s cheek, and he gently kisses him. It’s sloppy and they probably shouldn’t be doing it on Claire’s bedroom floor, but Brian’s satisfied. Brian wraps his arms around Andy’s neck, pulling him down to the floor with him. They pull away giggling. 

The rest of the night is a blur. 

 

Brian wakes up with a pounding headache and in a tangle of limbs and blankets. Andy has an arm wound around Brian, tucking him into his side. He smells like Old Spice and faintly of lavender; the smell in Claire’s room and also on her blankets and pillows. It’s not hard for Brian to wiggle out of Andy’s grip and then immediately shield his eyes from the sun. He wants to lay back down again, but he also doesn’t want to stay and see the consequences of his actions from last night. Claire is already downstairs, a glass of water in her hand. There’s no doubt in Brian’s mind that she’s already had some Tylenol. There’s no doubt in Brian’s mind that Claire saw him and Andy tangled together, but she says nothing about it. 

“Hungry?” she asks.

“Not at all,” Brian says, rubbing his face. Claire hums and takes a sip of her water. It’s not too long before Andy stumbles downstairs, rubbing his eyes, and looking adorably dishevelled. His shorts hang low on his hips and his sweatshirt rides up a little, revealing a sliver of the tan skin of his torso. Brian feels his face flush and he quickly averts his eyes, drinking the rest of his water. He fidgets nervously.

“I should probably be getting home. I still have work tomorrow and I don’t think my mom would be too happy if I missed dinner for a third time,” Brian chuckles. Andy doesn’t look at him, doesn’t even seem to acknowledge him, but Claire nods. Andy taps his fingers on the counter before turning around, a strange look on his face. 

“Hey, uh, Brian, can I talk to you for a second?” he asks. Brian has to swallow down the lump in his throat, the utter terror and panic that washes over him. He nods. They both walk out of the kitchen, leaving Claire alone, and she’s more than likely going to eavesdrop on the two of them. 

“Do you remember what we did last night?” Andy asks. His hands are shaking.

“No.” It’s a lie. He does. 

“Oh. We, uh, we kissed.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah. Uhm, I get it if you, like, don’t ever want to talk about it again. We were both drunk, so obviously it meant nothing, but…I just thought you should know that it happened,” Andy says. He sounds disappointed, almost defeated.

“Oh. Yeah. Uh, thanks,” Brian says. 

He feels guilty. He feels wrong for lying to Andy about not remembering the kiss from the night before, like he’s broken a trust, a bond, between the two of them. Andy doesn’t waste any more time standing there. He seems upset, almost like he might cry, and he rushes back into the kitchen to avoid making contact with Brian. 

Brian gathers his things and leaves. 

 

The week is hell. Work is long and slow; he cuts himself off from his friends, and he doesn’t try to talk to his family at all. It’s two weeks before Claire gets fed up with his bullshit and drives herself to his home, and lets herself inside his room. 

“Okay, you can’t mope around like this forever. Andy talked to me,” she says. Brian tenses and shifts uncomfortably, turning around to finally face Claire. Her arms are crossed and she has a more dominant flare than Brian. It’s like she owns the room. 

“I don’t possibly know what you mean,” Brian says. Of course he does know what she means, he’d just rather not admit it. Claire raises an eyebrow.

“Don’t lie to me.”

“I’m not!”

“Brian.”

“Fine.”

Claire sits on the edge of Brian’s bed. The door is shut and if they speak softly no one can hear them. They continue the conversation in whispers and Claire’s hand gently on top of Brian’s. 

“You need to talk to Andy about it,” she says to him softly.

“I already told you, and him, that I don’t remember that night,” he says, more angry than he wants it to come out. 

“Really? Do you really not remembering something as pivotal as your first kiss?” she asks. He was drunk, he thinks. An easy excuse out. “Listen, I know you were drunk, but you weren’t as drunk as your making yourself out to be.”

Well, there goes that excuse.

 

Claire forces Brian out of the house for some leisure time at the public pool. Again.

“I swear, if you pulled a stunt like you did last time, I have every legal right to leave your ass here,” Brian says, nonchalantly. He’s practically dead on his feet. Sleeping wasn’t as much of a priority as he would’ve liked it to have been, wallowing in self-pity was more of a chore. 

Claire tans in a chair. Brian sits beside her, in another thin, white chair that’s on the brink of breaking; napping. He’s only awoken by Claire about an hour into his nap, when she’s shaking him so violently he thinks he’s about to die.

“Jesus Christ,” he says, rubbing his eyes. “What’s up?”

“We gotta go.”

“Why?”

“Trust me,” but Claire doesn’t have to say anymore. Brian notices Andy and the way he swaggers into the pool area like he owns the place. 

“Fuck, dude. I told you I would leave your ass!” Brian is more distraught than anything.

“Do you think I’d be waking up and telling you to leave if I’d invited him in secret? Fuck, Brian,” Claire says. 

“God, okay, okay, I’m coming.”

“Hurry before he notices us!”

“I’m going as fast as I can!”

“Too fucking late.”

“Shit.”

Andy notices them. He smiles at Claire, and when he notices Brian his smile falls a little. Still he approaches them.

“Where are you guys going?” he asks, voice chipper.

“We were just…we were just leaving,” Brian responds. There’s so much going through his mind. If he doesn’t go, there’s no way he won’t fuck up in some way with Andy again. He’s gotten rather talented at doing it, but he’d rather not admit that to himself right now. 

“You guys should stay!”

You’re just saying that to be nice, Brian thinks. 

“We really have to go,” Brian says. Andy sighs. 

“Brian, can I talk to you?” Andy asks. Claire looks at Brian nervously.

“Uh, yeah,” Brian says. 

“Alone.”

“I—yeah, sure. Fine,” Brian says, shrugging. Andy nods his heads towards the bathrooms and begins walking.

“Run to me if things get bad, okay?” Claire says, softly putting a hand on Brian’s shoulder. 

“Of course.”

 

“Okay, what’s up?” Brian asks, leaning on the sinks. Andy scopes out the stalls making sure none of them are occupied. A public pool bathroom isn’t exactly the most private place to talk, but it was as good as they were going to get. 

“What’s wrong with you? Do you have a problem with me?” Andy asks, putting his hands on his chest. His bare chest, for that matter. Brian averts his eyes, suddenly nervous.  
“No, I don’t have a problem with you. There’s nothing wrong with me.”

“That sounds hilarious. You’ve been avoiding me for, what? Days now?”

“To be fair, I also avoided Claire.”

“Yeah, but you didn’t kiss her while you were drunk.”

Brian flushes and falters. He crosses his arms and runs his hands up and down them.

“That’s not what it is.”

“Is it not? God, I’m starting to wish I’d never told you. Maybe this wouldn’t be so fucking awkward.”

“Sometimes you need to shut up.”

“Brian, you ca—” Andy never gets the chance to finish. Brian wraps his arms around Andy’s neck and kisses him. For a moment, Andy doesn’t do anything. Brian starts to panic and pulls away, but it’s not too long before Andy is kissing him again. It’s more desperate than soft. There’s a hint of yearning, like both boys have been waiting for years, just for this moment. 

They’ve pushed themselves into one of the stalls, luckily, by the time someone walks in. They pull away and giggle, Brian’s head falling into the crook of Andy’s neck. Andy kisses the top of Brian’s head.

“We can’t just pretend this didn’t happen,” Andy sighs softly into Brian’s hair. Brian feels his body tense. What else was he expecting? Both of them are wide awake and clearly not intoxicated; Brian can’t play this off as some drunk mistake.

Brian shakes.

He’s not straight.

“Why can’t we, though?” he asks, lifting his head from the crook of Andy’s neck.

“I think the reason is quite clear,” Andy says, confused. He looks like a lost puppy, and Brian doesn’t want to kick him. There’s no way that Brian is gay, he can’t be. He can’t be gay. “Neither of us are drunk, and we’re both in the right state of mind, so… We can’t pass this one off.”

“Oh. I feel like we can, though,” Brian says. He tries not to shake. 

“Brian, we can’t.”

 

Brian drops Claire off at home and doesn’t say a word. 

He doesn’t go home, either. He has thirty-two dollars in his wallet, which isn’t enough to eat out and find a motel, and god forbid gas. 

He doesn’t care.

There’s so much going on with him right now. Brian feels like he’s going to lose his fucking mind if he doesn’t get out though. He turns his phone on do not disturb and throws it into the passenger’s side seat.

 

Brian pulls up into the parking lot of a diner in Missouri. 

There’s almost no cars in the parking lot, and from what Brian can see there’s only an old couple sitting at a booth in the diner. It’s bright and colorful, and Brian feels his shoes sticking to the floor when he walks into the diner. The hostess, a tired girl around Brian’s age, doesn’t question why he’s here so late at night. She looks at him with lidded eyes and a tight lipped smile while she seats him, and wishes him a goodnight when he’s settled. The waitress is an older woman, probably in her thirties, and she takes his drink order quickly.

The table feels greasy and sticky, and so does the booth. Brian wants to go wash his hands.

When he’s done eating, he bids the waitress goodnight and tips her nicely. It feels nice to leave the diner and it’s sticky, greasy atmosphere. Once he’s in his car, he finally checks his phone. Claire, his mom, his sister, his father; everyone has called him.

Even Andrew. 

He calls Andy back. 

 

“Hey, oh my God, hey.”

“Hey, Andy.”

“Jesus, we thought you were, like, dead or something. Like you got kidnapped. Where are you?”

“Missouri.”

“Jesus fucking christ, you did get kidnapped!”

“No, I didn’t. Just had to get out.”

“Get out? Why is your definition of get out go to Missouri?”

“I don’t know.”

“God, Brian, what’s up with you?”

“You! You are what’s up, Andy!”

“Me?”

“Yes! You waltzed in this summer, and over the school year, and something about you just… messed with me. Ever since that day in detention, I haven’t felt the same. Then you kissed me when we were drunk, and something just felt right! I know I told you that I didn’t remember that, but I was lying because I was scared. Then you just kissed me in that bathroom like there was nothing wrong, and it all made sense. Andy, I’m fucking scared.”

“Come back home, we can talk about this.”

“I-okay. I’ll be there later.”

 

Andy is at Brian’s house when he gets there early in the morning. The sun is rising. Andy is half asleep and leaning against the railing of the stairs. He’s wrapped in his thin blue windbreaker, and he perks when he hears Brian slam his car door. His hair is a mess and when Brian looks closer, it seems that he hasn’t slept a wink except for the nodding off he just did. 

“Hey,” he says softly, wiping his eyes. He pats the concrete beside him. 

“Hey,” Brian replies, sitting down. 

“So… let’s talk, yeah?” 

“Yeah.”

“You remember our drunk kiss?”

“Yeah, I, uh, I do.”

“Why’d you say you didn’t?” Andy asks. He doesn’t sound angry, just confused. There’s a soft tone of disappointment and sadness deep in his voice. It makes Brian feel guilty. He grabs Andy’s hand and squeezes. 

“Because I didn’t know my feelings at that moment. I just-I thought lying would be easier, y’know? I still don’t know myself enough, but I think I know enough,” Brian shrugs.

“I’m bi.”

“Oh. Oh, okay.”

“I’m not like out to my family, really anyone for that matter, but I feel like you should know that.”

“It’s nice to know,” Brian says. Andy rubs his thumb against Brian’s. “I think I might be gay.”

“Nice. You know I’m always there to talk if you need it, yeah? Sexuality isn’t like a quick trip journey, this is gonna take awhile,” Andy says, turning to face Brian instead of the sunrise. 

“Yeah. Thanks, though, really,” Brian says. Andy pulls their combined hands up and kisses Brian’s knuckles. 

“Of course. Anything for you.”

**Author's Note:**

> follow me on tumblr @thicklykeen


End file.
